Phantom
by portalkeeper
Summary: The first Death Star has incinerated Alderaan as this story unravels. Not all who should be dead are...This might later mutate into a Padme/Anakin fic
1. Prologue

Phantom

Portalkeeper87

Disclaimers: Yadda, yadda, yadda. This is a fanfic, all disclaimers are implied…

A/N: This takes place during Episode 4 and goes onwards. Lots of SPOILERS!! Maybe this will eventually go past the end of Episode 6…

Prologue

I had been tailing him for days, always around the corner, blending in with the shadows. He never noticed me, but then again, why should he?

To him, I was long gone, dead the very moment the children left my aching womb. And for a while, maybe I was.

I never knew where they ended up, really. I still don't. I had not the slightest inkling as to the existence of my very own children!

But back to him. Sometimes I wonder what would have been different if I had confronted him, if things would have turned out differently at all…

He has lost so much of his human body, one almost wonders if there is any of the man left. But I know his soul still remains—_it has to be there_! For to me, he is still the sweet little blue-eyed boy I met on dusty Tatooine all those years ago.

Obi-Wan had at long last awoken me. Took my cryogenically frozen half-dead body out from the depths of Tatooine's sandy wastes and thawed it. I had been so confused, so lost, the first few hours. But Obi-Wan had quickly explained the situation: a Rebel senator had sent a message to him, requesting immediate help. He was to go to the planet Alderaan and transmit the plans in the droid that she sent to the government. Also going along for the joy ride was the boy who had found the droid. He was off somewhere right now and Obi-Wan was a bit worried.

Obi-Wan had changed much since I had last seen him. He was now a bent old man, although still quite agile and spry. But seeing his white hair and all the wrinkles on his face made me realize just how old I was myself, without looking a day older than twenty-seven.

He wanted me to go with them, to help the rebel force. If he was saving me for some use at a later date, then this was it.

I listened to his persuasion, but deep down I had already decided. I was going to the Death Star, to settle some private debts. Which, upon arrival, I had discovered I couldn't carry out, no matter how much a part of me wanted to.

Upon hearing the noisy arrival of Obi-Wan's young companion, I quickly stole away through the desert. After walking for almost a day on foot, I arrived at a mostly deserted little town. I am not proud to explain how I received a ship and a change of clothing. But hey, the junky transport wasn't good for more than scrap metal anyway. And I was sure that no one would miss a few garments from their clothesline.

To get the job done, I was willing to lose a little dignity.

When I approached the Death Star, I was just in time to catch sight of the beautiful blue planet of Alderaan. And then it was gone.

Suppressing the feeling of nausea and revulsion, I had penetrated the access codes and docked onto the weapon of destruction itself.


	2. One

Phantom

Portalkeeper87

I glided after the dark figure as he stalked down a prison corridor. He could not feel my mind, no matter how strong he was in the Force. I had always been able to shield myself from him, should the need ever arise. And also able to borrow his abilities, I later found out.

His breathing was regulated by the mask, the despicable black mask that hid the very last part of his humanity.

I wonder if his eyes are still blue, as blue as the beautiful planet he destroyed less than a day ago. So blue that the sky of Tatooine could never compare.

My heart ached for that piercing blue.

He opened a cell door and spoke menacingly to someone inside. A prisoner, most likely. A rebel?

I wasn't here to save prisoners. But for my whole life I had worked on promoting peace and democracy in the Republic, now known as the Empire. And if the rebels felt the need to try and overthrow this vile dictatorship, who was I to argue?

But what could I do? I watched Vader leave the corridor, going back to the control center, probably to converse with that slimeball of an "Emperor".

Well, for one thing, I could try to get rid of some guards. After Vader had left the corridor, what had to be a battalion of storm troopers stormed back to guard the prisoner.

Uh-oh. I hoped Obi-Wan knew what he was talking about. _Use the force_, his voice vibrated in my mind. But I wasn't a Jedi! There had never been any need for my training to take place; my field was politics and had always been. But somehow I didn't believe these soldiers would be much impressed by a diplomatic solution.

I focused, concentrated my mind on the machinery hanging on the ceiling of the corridor. Feeling a confidence that wasn't entirely mine, using an ability that was borrowed temporarily from my ex-husband, I watched the poor storm troopers crushed under 50 tons of steel alloy.

None of them moved.

Repressing a slight shudder, I used the borrowed Force to whisk away the bodies and the machinery. The Dark Side was certainly very strong. I doubt even Yoda could have done that without breaking out a sweat.

But then again, I could almost _feel_ that Vader had suddenly stopped dead still in his tracks as slight tremors raced down his metallic body, at the precise moment his troops were being squashed. But he moved on as soon as they were hurled away through the station.

Then I realized what had happened. I had "borrowed" Anakin's abilities! I had been able to manipulate matter for a few moments, using powers not within my reach. Like a sketch borrowing the artist's pen to add something in its own world.

Utterly impossible. Obi-Wan had mentioned something of my link to Anakin, a most uncanny link, but certainly he didn't mean…

Come to think of it, he probably did.

I jerked out of my musings then, hearing the sound of stealthy steps. Unmeasured, uncertain steps. Not Imperial guards.

I hid in a slight nook off the side of the corridor and watched as two people, dressed in slightly ill fitting Imperial uniforms, made their way toward the now-unguarded cell.

I didn't know who these people were, but I was going to throw them out the same way those storm troopers went.

I focused…and stopped. The shorted one…he felt _familiar._ The Force was very strong in him, almost as strong as it had been in Anakin. Strong but untrained. And they seemed to be here to rescue the prisoner.

He went in and came out immediately with a girl, maybe in her late teens or early twenties. A pretty little thing, about his height. The Force was not weak in her, either. Was this the rebel? The Rebels needed to be more careful, allowing their agents to dress in the specific designs of Alderaan, giving another clue as to the planet's sympathies.

With a little guilt, I realized the planet that had be obliterated. It would seem that this poor girl had no home.

Then the boy turned around and looked down the hallway, hearing the sounds of approaching troops. He stared in my general direction, missing the nook altogether. But I saw his face.

Such intense blue eyes! My heart ached at their absolute blueness. So blue they put Naboo's own oceans to shame.

This was no time to become homesick, nor was it to reminiscence about past lovers. This was time to hide.

Borrowing just a bit of the Force from a past lover, I spread a blanket of invisibility over myself.

It was time to watch. Again.

But soon, soon I would step from the cloaking veils and revel in triumphant vengeance. For the pain he had caused me, for the love he had taken then and still kept even now…

Darth Vader would pay.


	3. Two

Phantom

Portalkeeper87

A/N: Sorry for the long gap between updates! But this purgatory called 'school' opened and I got sunk under. It might be a while before my next update, 'cause I'm just a _little_ busy as of now. This is a short update, but I just wanted to add a few plot twists and tell everyone that "Phantom" is far from over.

Dedicated to all the nice people who took the time to e-mail me until I posted the next section. Thanks!

The prisoners were missing. Their escape was blared through the sparse halls, echoing harshly in a standard Republic dialect. Storm troopers rushed through the halls, searching for any sign of rebels. There were too many, and my cloak could only last so long.

At last the throng thinned, down to about one or two guards passing by every minute. I took a chance, shed off the Force just as the latest guard brushed past me. He turned to shout a warning.

Too late. The words never passed from his lips. I yanked off his helmet and clubbed him hard. He tumbled into a heap at my feet. Quickly, I removed his uniform and put it on. A little big, a lot awkward. But it would certainly be less exhausting than using the Force.

I peeked around the corner, seeing if anyone was nearby. Nope, the coast was clear.

Now, what to do with his body? The guard could still wake up any moment.

My eyes fell onto a small latch protruding from the smooth wall. Garbage disposal. Hmm…

Blaster fire. Close by. I could almost smell the smoke of seared metal alloy already. I had to do this fast.

Wrapping the storm trooper in my cloak, I eased open the hatch. Slid him into the muck. The guard moaned, nearing consciousness. Not if I could help it.

A wave of shock hit me as I realized what I meant to do. Kill the man. No, kill the mindless, obedient _clone_. Don't think of him as a man. He's just a clone, dispensable. 

I pressed the button. The one for the trash compactor. I would squeeze him to death, hear his very bones pop through his skin, hear his brains explode as his skull shattered.

But in my cold ruthlessness, I pushed the wrong button. Not the "compact" button for this specific dump, by the master compactor. All the garbage disposals in this entire space station would compact.

Oh well. It wasn't like anyone else would happen to be in a trash heap, right?

As I turned to leave, a part of me felt the slightest alarm, as if someone I cared about was in mortal danger. But that couldn't be. Everyone I cared for was gone.

Then the rumbling stopped and the moment passed. Who had turned it off? I turned back to the chute and leaned my head close to the wall. Echoing from far away I could barely make out human voices. And then the beeps and whistles of a droid. A familiar voice.

Funny to think that after all these years, one of the only voices I recognized belonged to a droid. But I knew him, knew the particular rhythms and patterns of his speech almost as well as I knew my one. He had saved me many times, fought side by side with me at others. But why was he here, now?

"Artoo Detoo," I whispered, the helmet muffling my voice, "Where are you?"


End file.
